


in einer kalten Winternacht

by Menfinske



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Familiars, First Dates, Ice Skating, M/M, Not main subject of this fic, Romance is backstory, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menfinske/pseuds/Menfinske
Summary: It's a soft winter which appears to have gotten Richard rather down. Paul decides he wants to cheer Richard up and he gets some help to do it.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	in einer kalten Winternacht

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :D  
> This story was written for a October prompt of 'familiars'. Hope you enjoy!

“Shit!”

It’s a loud exclamation that follows immediately after a popping noise. The sound of glass shards follows shortly after as the glass of water shatters. The light flickers briefly, but that glass holds. Paul breathes out with his eyes closed, trying to calm himself. Trying and- well, failing. Because that’s par for the course today apparently.

He’d locked himself in the room he’s currently in hours ago. Literally hours ago. And during that time he’s been working on a single spell. A spell he simply can’t seem to master. It keeps producing that awful damned noise, though this is the first time it’s strong enough to actually break something. It shouldn’t do that! It should simply make ice. He wants to frost the lake so that he can go ice skating with Richard. He’s not entirely sure what had happened, but his friend had been feeling down for over a week now and Paul suspects some wintery activities would cheer him up.

“Right. New glass of water,” Paul finally murmurs to himself after several silent moments. He turns his back towards his notebook in which he’d written the spell.

He returns less than a minute later and freezes in the doorway when he sees a creature sitting in the room. It’s windowless and the only door couldn’t have been reached unless the creature had passed Paul on the way to the bathroom tap, so how did it get here? Besides- the door had been closed, so how would it even have gotten inside.

Taking a step closer Paul is able to identify the creature as a hairless cat. It’s sitting there calmly, staring at Paul unblinkingly. Its head is ever, ever so slightly cocked to the side, as if observing Paul for- well, for something.

“Right. Hey little buddy, why don’t you go out back out the door again,” Paul states, opening the door behind him and gesturing his arm as if the cat might understand that. And to Paul’s immense surprise- the cat _actually_ seems to understand. Rather than getting up and out the door, it shakes its head and lies down demonstratively. “Wh- Right. Long day today. Am starting to imagine things.”

“You’re not.” The voice is as clear as it should be impossible. The cat opened its mouth and the words came out. Sounding rather bored, actually.

“What?”

“You’re not imaging things,” it says very simply. Paul shakes his head. Did the spell knock him out? Did some glass give him a head-wound?

“Well, clearly I am if I’m imagining a cat that shouldn’t have been able to get in and is actually **talking**.” It takes all Paul has not to begin pinching himself to wake up. He tends to have vivid dreams, he’ll bet he’d feel the pinch even if he shouldn’t.

“You’re not particularly bright, but you’re not hallucinating,” the cat shoots back. Paul blinks once. Then twice. Then takes a step closer to the creature.

“Then why don’t you tell me since when cats have the ability to talk?” Paul shoots, arching a brow and crossing his arms, annoyed at being told he’s dim by his own damned subconscious. Just because he’s not afraid to criticize when needed doesn’t mean his subconscious needs to invent a damned cat to insult him.

“Since I am not a cat,” it responds, putting its paws underneath itself to lie down.

“Sure. You’re a mole. Since when can animals talk, smart-ass?” Paul huffs. The cat cocks its head, doing damn well at somehow forming an exasperated expression.

“I am a familiar. Familiars can talk.”

“A familiar?” Paul repeats. Well, he supposes they can talk, yes. He’s halfway through his thirties and he’s never seen a familiar anywhere near himself though. Why should he now all of a sudden get a familiar? “Why would I have a familiar?” he asks out loud.

“You’re a witch, no?” The cat points out.

“Well.. yes.”

“Then what exactly do you not understand? You’ve been taught, I’m sure.”

“Well, of course. But don’t familiars usually show up when witches begin practicing magic?” Paul’s question makes the cat actually roll its eyes.

“No, we show up when a protégé needs help. Although I must say I’m surprised I’ve only been sent here now. With your apparent lack of mental capacity I’d have imagined help couldn’t have come quickly enough.”

“Right,” Paul responds. “Because any creature that has its purpose to be someone’s help should be the judge of another creature.” The cat, however, seems unfazed by the retort. For the best, perhaps. Instead, Paul sighs and closes his eyes briefly, once again breathing in and out calmly three times. When he opens his eyes, the cat is still looking at him. “Right. Well- what’s your name?”

“Flake.”

“Flake,” Paul repeats. “So, Flake, what brings you here? What do I need help with?”

“I would imagine you’d know this better than me,” Flake responds. “However, since your brain appears to be having a difficult time catching up with the conversation I shall raise a hypothesis. I’d imagine you need help courting your chosen partner.”

The sentence makes Paul just about choke on his own tongue. He glances at Flake curiously. “What?”

“What fails to grasp your understanding now?”

“W- I thought familiars were supposed to help with magic, not with finding- finding a partner.”

“It didn’t look like the magic was working well, so I suppose it’s just as well that’s our primary goal. However, your intentions are much more clear than the ice you’re failing to create.”

“You’re a smart-ass,” Paul grumbles. Flake doesn’t respond to that. “Selectively, at least,” Paul adds quietly. “So you’re here to help me make ice?”

“Yes. So why don’t you get to it. I don’t like to be late for my naps.”

Paul glances at Flake for a moment longer before he turns away, grabbing the new glass of water he’d grabbed and putting it in the middle of the room. He then closes his eyes, focuses on his own breathing, on his surroundings. When his consciousness is thoroughly calm and aware of his surroundings, he begins to cast the spell.

It’s even less successful than the previous times though, and instead of the pop he’s been hearing all afternoon, all the spell produces now is the most pathetic little squeak. Paul can feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he glances over at Flake.

“Performance issues? Don’t worry, men tend to have this problem on occasion,” Flake quips. Paul has to physically restrain himself from strangling the wise-ass.

Paul tries to ignore the familiar sitting in the room, closing his eyes, once again letting his consciousness slip into his surroundings. It’s more difficult this time, knowing that Flake is watching and not being incredibly helpful. Knowing that he’s been insulted by the being several times already. It’s annoying and Paul doesn’t expect a positive result when he once again chants the incantation. Sure enough, the only effect is the same squeak as the time before.

This time the man doesn’t open his eyes. He keeps them closed, tries to ignore the familiar and focus on the surroundings only on the other side of the room. This time the result is back to the, by now familiar, popping sound. It’s not progress compared to the rest of the day, but at least it’s not the squeaking noise anymore. Several attempts follow these first ones, each one producing a differing volume in the eventual pop until the most recent attempt once again shatters the glass.

“Shit,” Paul curses, getting up to once more grab a new glass of water. Flake joins him before Paul can shut the door.

“Do you really not have an idea why this is failing?” Flake asks.

“If I did, don’t you think I’d do it differently?” Paul shoots back.

“Do you know the definition of insanity?”

“Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result,” Paul grumbles, knowing full well where the damned creature is going.

“Then am I safe to assume you are insane?”

“I’m trying alright,” Paul snaps. “Do you have any bright ideas?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Yes! Yes, it says,” Paul exclaims in frustration. “Then why don’t you help me! Aren’t you supposed to?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Paul grumbles. “Fine. What would you do differently?”

“That hair for one. Perhaps wear shoes instead of going barefoot.”

“About the spell,” Paul grinds out between clenched teeth. It’s just his luck this annoying little creature happens to be his familiar. Or karma perhaps. He’s been told off for criticizing and being a smart-ass as well. “I don’t like karma,” he murmurs. This, actually, makes the creature’s expression rather amused.

“The answer is really quite simple. What are you focused on when you cast the spell?”

“My surroundings. As I’m supposed to.”

“Generally, yes,” Flake agrees. “But if it’s the water you’re trying to freeze- then wouldn’t focusing on the water be more productive than any random thing in your surrounding?”

“The water is in the surroundings.”

“But are they all important?”

“Well- that’s how magic works, doesn’t it? I can freeze the ice but if it’s atop a warm table it won’t hold long. If the air is warm it won’t last long. If there’s a heater on it won’t last long.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Flake agrees. “Temperature of surroundings matters. But does it matter what the shape of that table is? Does it matter how the air smells as long as it’s cold? Does it matter what kind of a heater it is when it’s off?”

“I suppose not,” Paul responds.

“No, I don’t suppose it does either. I suppose you can filter what surroundings you’re aware of and what you’re trying to influence.”

“Right. I’ll try that then,” Paul nods, finally opening the tap and filling a new glass. They return back to the room in silence and Flake jumps up on top of a chair, laying down. Paul sits cross-legged on the floor, closing his eyes and taking Flake’s advice.

He focuses on the temperature in the room, feeling the chilly but not freezing air around himself. The fact that the furniture is slightly warmer since the heating had been on for a little while this morning. He focuses on the glass and the fact that it’s mostly room-temperature coming directly from the tap. Then he chants the incantation again.

Once more the same familiar popping sound is heard. Paul still opens his eyes though, seeing that there is the tiniest amount of ice in the glass. Paul’s eyes widen. It worked! The spell wasn’t powerful enough to frost the water entirely yet, but it worked!

“Yes!” Paul exclaims.

“Very good,” Flake agrees. “Although I imagine your partner will be cold if you try to skate on such thin, unstable ice.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll repeat it until it’s more solid,” Paul waves Flake’s concern off. And indeed, he does close his eyes to practice the spell again.

It’s nearly three hours later when Paul and Flake are standing at the little lake near the town. Paul had continued to practice the spell all afternoon and now he wants to try it on the actual lake since it will be significantly more difficult to frost this than a single glass of water. The lake is about the size of half a soccer field, but Flake had reasoned simply recasting the spell often enough would work just as well as a single one to frost the entirety.

Besides, as Paul sits down on the ground beside the lake he realizes this might be easier to do than at home regardless. While it is a soft winter, it’s still only barely removed from frost. At present it’s two degrees Celsius, though during sunshine hours the whole week had been around five.

“Remember, focus on the temperature, don’t get too distracted with everything else,” Flake says. Paul nods his head, closing his eyes and doing just that. Letting his consciousness drift into the water, which is already almost at freezing point. The ground beside and below the water, which is a little warmer. The air surrounding them. And then he begins the incantation.

Small patches of ice appear in the lake as Paul watches once he’s finished casting the spell. It will definitely require some repeating before it’s safe to skate on the lake. And he definitely plans to repeat the spell tomorrow before he’s meeting up with Richard. But it’s a start, a promising one. Paul’s lips curl into a smile as he closes his eyes again to once again cast the spell.

“The ice is stable and thick enough,” Flake confirms after two hours. It had walked onto the ice ahead of Paul, being much lighter. However, Paul had been right behind and indeed, the ice feels sturdy underneath him. His consciousness had felt there was a good layer of ice as well.

“I think so too. I’ll still go back tomorrow though, since I doubt it’ll genuinely freeze tonight,” Paul reasons.

“I will not dissuade you,” Flake responds. “But I would rather like to go home and take a nap now.” Paul laughs about that, heading back in the direction of his home.

“Paul, where are we even going?” Richard complains.

“I told you, we’re going to the lake.”

“What could we possibly go there for? It’s too cold to go swimming, it’s too warm to go skating.”

Richard is looking good today. He generally does in Paul’s eyes, of course, but the slim-fitting black trousers he’s wearing are very complementary to his shape and the black leather jacket looks amazing on him. The black-spiked hair is simply the cherry on top. However, as much as he looks good, his winter blues clearly aren’t over. He’d barely smiled when opening the door and it’s the most his lips had curled up today,

“We’ll see,” Paul responds simply. Richard gives a little grumble in reply, but he follows Paul obediently regardless. The walk to the lake happens mostly in silence. It’s comfortable and familiar, they’d been going for walks in the nature around town for years now. It hadn’t been until earlier this winter however, when Paul had seen how Richard seemed to be disappointed with the winter so far and how much it dismayed Paul to see his friend so down, that Paul had realized his true feelings.

“It’s- it’s frozen,” Richard sounds absolutely stunned. Paul glances at the lake, which unsurprisingly is indeed frozen. Flake is sitting a safe distance away, clearly unspotted by Richard, but he gives a wink to Paul. Which looks a little uncanny coming from a cat, but it still brings a smile to Paul’s face.

“Told you we’d see,” Paul chuckles, patting his friend on the shoulders. “Come on, I’ve already brought skates here when I found out it was frozen.” He leads the both of them to a spot beside the lake, where indeed he had put skates, as well as two blankets (one to sit on and one to sit under if they take a break) and drinks and snacks.

“That’s amazing, Paul! I didn’t think we’d get to go skating this year anymore.”

“Somehow I had caught onto that,” Paul quips. Richard rolls his eyes and shoves Paul’s shoulder lightly before sitting down on the blanket and taking off his shoes, looking underneath the first pair of skates to see what size they are. Paul follows a beat behind, which means that Richard is already balancing himself on the slippery ice when Paul makes his way over on the skates. “I uh- can’t say I’m good at this.”

“Come here, I’ll help you,” Richard holds out his hands for Paul to take them. Paul accepts the offered hands, pulling himself forwards a little too much on purpose, making them bump into each other. Richard laughs happily, wrapping his arms around Paul in fear of him losing his balance and falling backwards.

Richard continues to hold his hand as they begin to move across the lake. Paul isn’t very steady on his feet, but he’s able to keep himself upright. And he thoroughly enjoys seeing the smile on Richard’s face stay there for longer than a fleeting moment for the first time in weeks. And it helps that his nose has turned adorably red, his cheeks not faring much better.

“Reesh, can we take a break and have a drink?”

“Yeah, of course,” Richard agrees. They head to the side of the lake, where Paul sits down and takes a beer for himself before handing one to his friend. “You look like a gnome with your beanie and red nose,” Richard chuckles.

“Gnomes have pointy heads,” Paul protests. Richard leans over and takes the top of his beanie, maneuvering it until it’s standing slightly upright.

“So do you,” Richard’s eyes are glinting and Paul huffs, though he can’t be bothered to do anything else when Richard looks so cheerful. Richard, on his part, at least seems to take a little pity on him, because he grabs the second blanket Paul had brought and pulls Paul close before wrapping it around them. “There, you’ll be warm quickly like this.”

“Mh. With the added bonus of snuggling up to you, of course,” Paul points out with a grin.

“Ah yes. A not insignificant added bonus, I’m sure.”

“Definitely not. Why do you think I brought you here. I really rather like you,” Paul admits. For a moment it remains silent behind him. Paul briefly thinks he might have said something wrong, that Richard is surprised- or worse, appalled, by Paul’s confession. Before Paul can truly begin to worry though, he feels Richard’s arms snaking around his chest, pulling him close.

“Good. Because I really rather like you too,” Richard admits. Paul turns his head to beam at Richard, who is now looking really cheerful indeed. After another moment a small weight jumps into Paul’s lap and Paul allows Flake to crawl under the blanket too. Surely the little creature is cold under the circumstances, hairless and skinny as it is.

“Who’s this?” Richard asks. 

“The kitty matchmaker,” Paul jokes. “It brought me here this morning. Seems to think I should take care of it as well.”

“Then I guess we’d better do so right, because I’m very much enjoying this date,” Richard agrees, reaching out to briefly stroke across the familiar’s head before wrapping his arms back around Paul. Which Paul suspects is a good decision based on Flake’s grumpy expression following the touch. Paul chuckles as he sits there with his new familiar and new partner. Happy and content.


End file.
